


A Study in Sisters

by tablelamp



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Big Sisters, Gen, Little Sisters, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29591535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/pseuds/tablelamp
Summary: A look at how the Crawley sisters' unseen childhood might've been.





	A Study in Sisters

They were sisters, with all the fractiousness that relationship could contain, but sometimes they worked towards the same goal. 

For instance, Mary could be cruel, but she was also clever, and their governess made an irreversible mistake on the day Mary learned her lessons more quickly than usual. She let her go early, to play. Mary quickly realized how she could turn this to her advantage, and began asking (or having Sybil ask, because the governess loved Sybil) what they would be learning the next day. She would not only learn as much of it ahead of time as she could, she would teach her sisters. Edith resented being told what to do, but relented when Mary told them they'd have more time to play the next day; Sybil thought the whole thing was a grand game.

The next day, they dazzled the governess with the quickness of their learning, and Mary asked innocently (or as innocently as she could) if they could go play. The governess, one Miss Brunty by name, agreed, surprised by the sudden knowledge of her pupils.

The day after that, it happened again.

For as long as she could, Mary studied ahead and helped instruct her sisters so they'd have more time to play and less time to study. Miss Brunty understood too late the trap she had laid for herself, but the Crawleys were happy that the children were so involved in their learning, and so she came to regard Mary's unexpected initiative as a gift to her, too. The afternoons she was not teaching, she could paint or read or write letters. She made sure never to let the children know that she enjoyed their short lessons just as much as they did; she suspected it might put an end to the practice, and likely wasn't wrong.

Each girl had her own skills. Mary could think her way out of or into any situation, though some of her schemes were more successful than others, and she almost always had at least one willing assistant in her sisters. Edith discovered early that she wasn't noticed as much as Mary, which meant she could hide in rooms and overhear things, or sneak into the kitchen for a treat. Edith believed she was so invisible that no one noticed her filching sweets, which wasn't exactly true. (Mrs. Hughes asked Mrs. Patmore about some missing chocolates once, and Mrs. Patmore looked at her levelly and said, "There's got to be consolations for not being the favourite." Mrs. Patmore never brought it up again, but Mrs. Hughes never forgot it.) And Sybil was the baby, which meant that generally everyone made a fuss over her. Perhaps because she was the youngest, Sybil was the most open to new ideas of the three of them. Sybil was also focused on doing the right thing in the right way. This sometimes exasperated Mary, who would have loved to weaponize Sybil's cuteness for her own ends and occasionally managed it.

And so they grew up, all very different, and not always getting along, but with a shared history that only spending every day together could provide. Once, when Edith was ill, Mary sat on her bed and told her how, when their mother told Mary she would have a new brother or sister soon, Mary insisted that the baby was going to be her baby, because their parents had her and now it was her turn. 

"So you see," Mary told Edith, "I've never entirely stopped thinking of you as somehow mine." She would have denied the story had Edith told anyone, but Edith knew Mary well enough not to. She knew that such stories were rare looks into what her sister really cared about.

Edith was not as secretive with her kindness. She told Sybil how, when she was a baby, she and Mary used to turn cartwheels for her at every opportunity because it made her laugh. Carson had caught them at it in the parlour and had harrumphed at them loudly enough that they didn't dare turn cartwheels in the house again, only outdoors.

And Sybil knew which sister to turn to for which sort of comfort. If she wanted to be hugged and fussed over, Edith would do it. If she wanted someone kicked in the shins or shouted at, Mary would do that and enjoy every minute of it. Any challenge to any one of them became a challenge to all three of them.

They had differing opinions about adulthood, too. Mary wanted wholeheartedly to pin her hair up and order dresses from Paris, as she saw her mother do. Edith was less sure of the process, particularly as she had to come after Mary, who was considered the beauty of the family. She told Sybil about her worries once, and Sybil asked, "But do nice people only talk to beautiful girls?" Edith hugged her sister very tightly and said she hoped not. And Sybil was a bit grumpy that she had to wait for both of them to be adults before she could be considered an adult herself. It seemed, she told her sisters, like an _enernity_ , and Edith and Mary exchanged a glance and agreed silently that they wouldn't interrupt their sister's heartfelt words to tell her that the word she wanted was "eternity." (Sybil learned soon enough, and it became a code word between them when one of them complained that something was taking a long time. Another would ask, "An enernity?" Once Mary forgot that only a few of them knew the joke and said it at a dinner party, visibly confusing a few nearby guests.)

The first night Mary dressed in her new clothes and had Anna put her hair up like an adult, the other two watched closely to see what it was like.

Sybil, of course, cut right to the heart of matters. "Are you scared?"

Mary glared at her sister. "Of course not! Don't be absurd." She lifted a hand to touch her hair, then seemed to change her mind and lower it again. "I do want to do well."

"You always do well," Edith said. "At everything."

That made Mary smile, and she turned to look at her sisters. "I'm not thinking only of myself, you know. Your marriages depend on what I do."

"I'm not getting married," Sybil said emphatically. "When I grow up, I'm going to ride horses and play with dogs all day."

After their laughter faded away, Edith said, "We'll all have money. That should...smooth the path."

"Quite," Mary said, but she didn't look convinced.

"Besides," Sybil added, "perhaps no man will be good enough for you."

Edith bit the inside of her cheek until the urge to laugh had passed. Sybil was young, but perceptive. "If that's true, we can take a cottage somewhere and be spinsters together."

Mary smiled. "Thank you." She smoothed the front of her dress with her hands. "Well?"

Sybil curtsied so elaborately she almost fell over. Edith simply gave Mary a nod, which Mary returned.

"Tell us everything afterwards," Edith said. "Don't leave anything out."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Mary said. 

She left the room, and as they had done for much of their lives, her sisters followed.


End file.
